Rise of the Runelords

Pathfinder Campaign

We discovered that the Brothers of the Seven was actually a small-time cult that had been co-opted by the Wonton of Nature’s May Forms. The cult itself was still evil, but a ‘lesser evil’ who worshiped a death god.

The Wonton appears to have coerced a Justice Ironbrar into service and influenced his behavior dramatically.

Now were getting somewhere. Finally. After a few days of sitting on our hands, we’ve finally landed a break – we know who the bitch behind the attacks is. It seems the culprit is the psychotic adopted daughter of the old priest. She always was a bit whiny about her circumstances and now it seems she’s taken it to the next level – she intends to devote herself to the goddess of monsters and purge her divine blood in the process. I used to pity her, a little, for the attentions she was drowned in; now I only hope that I can purge her blood for her – how dare she sacrifice her friends and neighbors, her father, for such an obscenity?

I am saddened that my friend Ameiko was caught up in this mess, she will be a long time in recovering (if ever) from the cesspit her brother has made of things. I will have to see if there’s something I can do to console her, she deserves that much. Maybe there’s something I can do for her business to distract her or help her reestablish herself. As far as I know she has no husband, nor other family, to help her through the time so she will need as much assistance as she can get. I care very much for her, she’s always been kind to me.

We have also had an opportunity to speak with Tor’s ranger friend, who was extraordinarily helpful and knowledgeable about the goblin tribes and their habits. I have taken a great deal of notes (which I have attached) and I hope they’ll be of use in the future. Our next step, I believe, is to check out the smuggler’s caverns below the old glassworks. Ameiko’s brother’s notes indicate that they had hoped to utilize these tunnels for a surprise assault. By investigating these tunnels we’ll be able to address a threat to the town without breaking our word to Hemlock, which is important. I would hate to be on the bad side of the town sheriff, though if he delays much longer it may become necessary. Thistletop appears to be the primary base of the goblins and their matron – I intend to burn it to the ground if necessary.

The events of the glassworks were both encouraging and worrisome. Tor conducted himself well, keeping his head and exercising both guile and patience before battle was joined. He’s taken to throwing things, which is a bit unorthodox but apparently quite effective. Lily continues to hold her own, but her impetuousness puts her in more danger than I’d like – she’s smaller and frailer than Tor and I, and I am constantly worried a goblin will get a lucky shot in. I will have to speak with her.

To Do List:

Check in with Ameiko again, make sure she’s ok

See what can be done to drum up business for the inn and tavern, more patrons will mean less time for her to brood.

Maybe Lily could make some decorations for the tavern? Brighten up the place? get with her on it.

Continue working on current smithing project, there’s an inordinate amount of work left to do on it

Investigate the tunnels. The last thing we need is a place where the vermin can enter unseen.

Get with Lily and Tor about tactical arrangements – a suit of armor is only good if there are no holes in it

Find out what arrangements Lily will need to contribute without putting herself on the front lines. She mentioned something about being ‘out of range’ – perhaps she can’t zap her targets from more than a few feet away.

Determine how best to work with Tor on the field. I’m concerned his newfound battlerage will limit his ability to act in a coordinated fashion, leaving myself as the sole individual with an idea of the bigger picture in the field.

Liliana's Account of the Goblin Attack

Today I am going to start a journal (again). No one seems much interested in talking since the attack and you get looked at funny if you talk to yourself… So I figured maybe writing to myself would be better. Funny how that works. They are both forms of talking to yourself. Anyways, maybe this journal will be my longest ever. I might make it to page two if people keep being so down and antisocial.

Everyone has been acting a bit strange since the goblin’s attacked Sandpoint. If it is even possible, Val has gotten more serious about his forge work. Tor seems a bit odd too after his bloodlust and near death. Most of the town just wants to forget about the attacks and move on, but Val and Tor want to go chase these goblins down and find out what they were up to. I guess there is this idea that it was something besides just a random goblin attack. Something about a human and digging up a grave, but I didn’t pay much attention to that. It came out of the goblins mouths after all… Who’s to say that they weren’t just making it up anyways.

I was very angry with the goblins for interrupting the speech that I really would have sat through. Now I will never get a chance to prove that I could have. The butterflies were beautiful. I wonder what happened to them. Val didn’t like me playing with the little kids. He always acts like…

Sorry, I’m back now. The merchants just opened up and I had to go and see if there was anything new to look at. I actually have some money for once! We found money on those stinky goblins! Of course I paid Maver Kesk back first thing since he let me borrow money to buy my fancy weapon. Everyone thought he was crazy to lend money to me. They said I’d never pay it back even if I meant to, but I did! Of course I might have had to write down that I owed him money in about a dozen places to make sure I could prove them wrong. I don’t like when people assume that I won’t remember things.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, Val always acts like I need babysitting. I try to tell him that I am fine on my own, but he never believes me. He is always watching me and scolding me when I don’t do things his stuffy old way. He says I did good in the fights which was new. He has never really thought of me as useful, so that was certainly a change of pace.

I bought some pretty things to make a necklace with to remember the only beautiful thing that happened the day of the goblin attack. The butterflies were beautiful. I found one dead on the edge of town. Still just as pretty as when it was flying around, though definitely a bit more still. Butterflies don’t seem to live very long. I wonder if they think of it as a short time or not. Tor says that I won’t live very long compared to him, but I think my life will be just the right length. Maybe that is how butterflies feel. It makes me feel better to think of them that way anyways. I decided to use the butterflies wings in my necklace. He didn’t need them anymore anyways and they sure were pretty.

My days of sitting around making pretties seem to be over at least for now. I guess we are going to go chasing these goblins down. My brothers want to and, who knows, I might see interesting new things. I have never been real far out of the town before so it might be neat. I hope it is anyways… Otherwise it is just going to be another long walk with them yelling at me to keep up… Course I have a pony now. He is a good boy. Still slower than my brother big horsies and I don’t think they can carry me and my pony so I guess they will just have to wait up.

Maybe I will right more in this journal later. I seem to have done pretty well so far. I even made it onto the second page. Had to write those last lines a little big, but I made it. I’ll bring this with me in case my brothers are still boring on our trip.

Happy Birthday. That’s what I thought would be the highlight of the day – aside from babysitting Liliana and taking in the sights and sounds of the swallowtail festival with Tor, I had assumed it would be just another day, and I was in a hurry to end it so I could return to the forge. Not to be, apparently.

The town was assaulted by goblins. I’d heard they were prone to raids of under-protected tradesmen and farms, but I’d never imagined they’d assault the town itself. The practice arms and armor I had made up for Tor and I were left at home of course – a lesson I will neither forget nor repeat. It was a bloody day, and we lost a number of friends and neighbors, husbands, wives, sons and daughters. Hell, we nearly lost Tor, the great oaf – he’d gone mad with bloodlust and the little rodent gutted him. I was able to mend the fault, but it was a near thing more than once, and I’m not nearly practiced enough in my attunement to keep up with the blows the monsters dealt – another inadequacy I will need to mitigate.

My sister surprised me actually. Her arcane trickery (the foolishness with electricity she uses for practical jokes as much as for any real use) was more than impressive, it was integral. I’d venture to say that without her protective magics, as well as her little bolts, we would be in a ditch with so many more of the village. Something to keep in mind in the future – and not underestimate.

We never did find out the purpose behind the attack beyond mere carnage. We were able to discern that it was a diversion so that some “longshanks” (we assume this means humanoid?) was able to steal the body of the old priest, but why anyone would wish to do that is beyond me. My siblings and I have decided to pursue the marauders however. The sheriff seems content to see to returning to ‘business as usual’ but I cannot let that stand. The hateful little vermin will need to be removed, and their master made to answer, before it will be safe in sandpoint once more – my siblings and I intend to see to it.

To Do List:

Learn to use proper arms and armor. Play time is over.

Remember not to underestimate Liliana’s “tricks”

Keep an eye on Tor – he’s effective, but reckless. He’ll need someone who can keep their head with him to avoid a tragic circumstance. Outfit him with the best stuff.

Strengthen Attunement with the metal. Only the metal has the strength to endure and overcome what comes in the future

- Valerian

ps – Strange. In all of this, I find I did not address ma and pa at all. They apparently kept their heads in the confusion, which was heartening. I turned down their offer of the farm, they were not surprised. I think, however, they see something about the three of us that I’ve yet to discern – they hardly argued at all when we indicated our intention to continue involvement in the aftermath of the attacks. More disconcerting, I think if they had argued it would not have made a difference. I worry.

Adventure Introduction

The Swallowtail Festival begins promptly, as scheduled, on the first day of autumn. The square before the church quickly becomes crowded as locals and travelers arrive, and several merchant tents featuring food, clothes, local crafts, and souvenirs are there to meet them.

Welcoming Speeches: The turnout for the opening speeches is quite respectable, and the four keynote speakers each deliver short but well-received welcomes to the festival. Mayor Deverin’s friendly attitude and excitement prove contagious as she welcomes visitors to town and jokes about how even Larz Rovanky, the local tanner (and notorious workaholic) managed to tear himself away from the tannery to attend, much to everyone’s but Larz’s amusement. Sheriff Hemlock brings the crowd down a bit with his dour mood, his reminder to be safe around the evening’s bonfire, and his request for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in the fire that claimed the town’s previous church five years ago. Fortunately, Cyrdak Drokkus is more than up to the challenge of bringing the crowd’s mood back up with his rousing anecdotes as he delivers a not-completely-irreverent recap of the long process the town went through to finance and construct the new cathedral. He throws in a bit of self-promotion at the end, as is his wont, inviting everyone to stop by the Sandpoint Theater the following evening to check out his new production of “The Harpy’s Curse,” revealing that the lead role of Avisera the harpy queen will be played by none other than the famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda! Finally, Father Zantus steps up give a short speech thanking everyone for coming before declaring the Swallowtail Festival underway.

Swallowtail Release: At noon, Father Zantus and his acolytes wheel a large covered wagon into the square, and after recounting the short parable of how Desna first fell to earth and was nursed back to health by a blind child who she transformed into an immortal butterfly as a reward for her aid, they pull aside the wagon’s cover, releasing the thousand children of Desna—a furious storm of a thousand swallowtail butterflies that swarm into the air in a spiraling riot of color to a great cheer from the crowd. Throughout the rest of the day, children futilely chase butterflies, never quite quick enough to catch them.

Lunch: Lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s taverns. Each brings its best dishes—this event is a marketing push by the taverns as much to win new customers as it is to feed a hungry crowd. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other offerings, such as the Hagfish’s lobster chowder or the White Deer’s peppercorn venison.

Consecration: Finally, as the sun begins to set, Father Zantus takes the central podium, uses a thunderstone to attract everyone’s attention, and clears his throat as he prepares to recite the Prayer of First Dreaming.

The Attack: A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun’s setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of dozens of conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn towards the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage. He clears his throat, then takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman’s scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises – high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.

The Goblin Song

Goblins chew and goblins bite. Goblins cut and goblins fight. Stab the dog and cut the horse, Goblins eat and take by force!

Goblins race and goblins jump. Goblins slash and goblins bump. Burn the skin and mash the head, goblins here and you be dead!

Chase the baby, catch the pup. Bonk the head to shut it up. Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed. We be goblins! You be food!